


An Easy Choice To Make

by kuro



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Project Happy Steve, Team Building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro/pseuds/kuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU-ish sequel to Captain America: The Fighting Avenger. </p>
<p>After the events of TFA, Steve returns to New York. The army likes using him as their poster boy, a fact that makes Steve less than happy. It doesn't stay that way for very long, though. </p>
<p>(Or, Steve makes friends in unusual ways.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Easy Choice To Make

_New York, 1942._

Steve had to remind himself for the nth time that evening that he wasn’t supposed to fiddle with his bow tie, but the urge to do it regardless grew with every passing minute. They had forced him into formal wear despite his protests, and the cut and the fabric of the suit he was wearing was driving him insane. His uniform was more comfortable than this, and that was saying something. 

Even without being stuck in an uncomfortable suit, the luxurious ball room was too hot, too many bodies pressed together in this space, too many smells mixing with each other. He tried hard not to gag because of all the heavy, expensive perfume lingering in the air.

His old comrades had gotten lucky and managed to escape being paraded around like a precious racing horse. As soon as they had been able to, they had decided to return to the front lines, saying that this was where they were really needed.

“And anyway,” Bill had added, clapping Steve’s shoulder and winking at him, “we’re not all Poster Boys.”

Steve would have joined them in a heartbeat, gone back to the front lines and fought the good fight, but he hadn’t been allowed to. The higher-ups had forced him to attend tonight’s gala, saying that this was more important than his return to the front line. (How exactly, Steve didn’t quite understand.) So he had ended up here in this high class hotel tonight. Alone. Because he didn’t even had a plus one that he could bring with him.

He felt very much like an exotic animal at a zoo. The rich and the famous that attended the gala could smell that he didn’t belong to them, and some of them even recognised him from the newspapers and propaganda posters. He’d already signed more than one of the blasted things tonight. Where the posters had suddenly appeared from, he wasn’t quite sure. Rich people had their (weird) ways, he figured. 

What really set his teeth on edge, however, was something else. He wasn’t quite sure what it was that made him the most uncomfortable, honestly: Those people that didn’t recognise him and came on to him, or those that did, and still came on to him.

Both instances made the hair on the back of his head stand up. The last person he’d had to flee from had been a very handsy old lady that was heavily encrusted in jewellery, and he quickly tried to hide somewhere between the lavish decorations to escape people’s prying eyes, even if just for a few moments. He was so busy reminding himself that he wasn’t supposed to fiddle with his bow tie that he didn’t watch where he was going for a second and promptly bumped into a very petite brunette in an absolutely stunning yellow dress that sparkled with her every movement like it was made out of nothing but gemstones.

Steve immediately apologised profusely, but before he could even start to feel actually bad about it, the brunette dismissed the incident with a quick wave of her hand and beamed up at him instead.

“Steve Rogers,” she said; it was a statement, not a question.

Steve nodded dumbly, wondering why someone here would know his real name. People knew him as Captain America, yes, but his real name had never been revealed to the public. The brunette smiled even more broadly and linked arms with him, unceremoniously steering him across the room.

“Janet Van Dyne,” she introduced herself on the way, brushing her unusually short hair out of her eyes. “But please call me Jan – all my friends do.”

Steve had, of course, heard of the name Van Dyne. Janet’s father was a scientist that had made a fortune with the carefully planned business application of his research. Janet, as the daughter of a rich and famous entrepreneur, was a socialite and dabbled herself in the fashion business and other ventures – quite successfully so, according to the newspapers. (That would also explain the dress, Steve reckoned.)

In short, she and Steve were two people that lived in entirely different worlds, and Steve wondered what a woman like her could ever want of him. She certainly wasn’t like that old lady that had tried to corner him.

Before he was able to figure out what “Jan” wanted, she zeroed in on two people standing a little apart from everyone else. These two were just as eye-catching as Janet herself was – the woman had unusually long, blonde hair that she wore in a pony tail, and she wore a suit instead of a dress. Steve couldn’t help but give her and appreciative look; she cut a dashing and very confident figure in the suit. More so than Steve probably did. Next to her stood a black man with short hair and a suit just as well-fitting as the woman’s – although he was doing what Steve had been itching to do the whole evening, and was currently pulling on his bow tie, crumpling it a little.

He shot Steve an apologetic grin when he caught him staring, shrugging his shoulders a little. “It’s not really my style, usually,” he explained.

Janet tutted and went to work on his bow tie, straightening it. “Seriously, Sam, it’s only this one evening, and then you can go back to your usual attire. I wouldn’t mind designing a casual set of clothes for you, you know?” She patted his chest, seemingly content with her work, and turned back to Steve. “ _Anyway_ , I’d like to introduce these two excellent specimens to you, if you don’t mind. Sam Wilson and Carol Danvers. They’re both in the military, too, Air Forces. But if you want details, you have to ask them and not me. Sam, Carol, this is Steve Rogers, you know, _Captain America_.”

Steve was met with two stern, appraising glances, but they both eventually extended their hands in greeting, giving his own hand a firm shake. Steve was a little confused as to why exactly he was being introduced to these two people, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t interested in meeting new people. On the contrary. After being held back from joining his old crew, he felt a little lonely. There was no one around him that he could earnestly call his friend, and these people had the potential to be interesting. He usually had an unerring instinct for that kind of thing.

“Jan,” a new voice interrupted just when Steve was about to speak up, “I see you’ve managed to be faster than me. But wonderful, everyone has already gathered. Captain, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The new arrival held out his hand to him in greeting, and Steve goggled for a moment. _That_ Tony Stark was standing in front of him. The same Tony Stark that had not only achieved international fame for his many inventions, but also with his adventures that he regularly published in comic magazines. (No, Steve definitely was not a fan.)

“I… it’s a pleasure, sir,” he eventually stuttered, grabbing Mr. Stark’s hand nervously.

Tony scoffed and shuddered faux-dramatically. “Call me Tony, please. Sir is definitely out of the question.”

“I… yes, Tony,” Steve answered, still quietly star-struck. He wondered if it would be weird to ask for his autograph. It probably was, he concluded with no small amount of regret.

“Anyway,” Tony continued, “if we’re all here, we can get down to business.”

The three others nodded, apparently aware of what Tony was talking about, but Steve only looked from one to the next, unsure of how to react. Business? Had they somehow gotten him mixed up with someone else? He hadn’t expected something like this when he had come here tonight. But Jan, for some reason, had known his name.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more quiet,” Jan said, apparently noticing Steve’s insecurity and giving Steve a soothing smile. “We can explain everything to you there.”

* * *

They ushered Steve into a small, quiet room that was mostly filled with a variety of expensive looking, overly stuffed armchairs and a large fireplace. Tony immediately zeroed in on the drinks that were prepared and made sure that everyone was taken care of. Steve was gently coaxed into one of the seats, a drink pressed into his hand, and the four others took a seat in the armchairs facing his own.

“So,” Tony started, twirling his drink in his hand. “We have an offer to make.”

“You have acquired rather the reputation in the military,” Sam smirked. “Captain America, the mascot that seems to be incapable of following orders.”

“You have a knack of getting yourself into trouble,” Carol added. “But you’re also very good at getting yourself _out_ of it, too. We need someone like you.”

“You see,” Tony explained (and Steve started to feel rather silly, his head whipping back and forth from one person to the next), “we’re trying to build a team. You know I’ve been doing some… adventuring? Yes? Good. But you know, since the war has started, that hasn’t been all I’ve been doing. I’ve been supporting the allies in ways that others wouldn’t be able to, and I’m not the only one doing it. Jan and I have known each other for a long time now, and I have people I work with that are very well-connected. So we started noticing each other, and we figured out that working together might be a good way to put our skills to use. We are still looking for more people with unique skills to fulfil unique tasks, though, and well, you fit the bill. So what we’re offering is a place on a team that fights the threats in this war others might be unable to fight.”

Steve gaped. He was so surprised about the sudden turn of events that it took him a while to work out what exactly Tony was saying.

“What he means is we’re trying to get stuff done that will hopefully help with winning the war, and we’ll be risking out lives ten times over in the process,” Sam said. Then he smiled again. “Not that that’s really much different from what you’ve been doing until now. Let’s just say the tasks will become slightly more difficult. But you’ll also have a larger team to work with, and one that’s far better equipped.”

Steve was unsure how to reply, but he could already feel that tell-tale tingle in his hands, slowly spreading out into his arms and throughout his whole body. This. This might be the opportunity he had been waiting for. He had been wishing for something like this, hadn’t he? A team that could counter the threat that the Red Skull and his cohorts posed. And he was ready to grab the opportunity with both hands. 

“I’ll do it,” he said, jutting his chin forward in determination.

Tony chuckled, glancing over at Carol and Sam. “Told you.”

They both shook their heads, but they also smiled back at Steve.

“Great!” Jan said, clapping her hands. “Now that you’re on board, we need to discuss costume choices.” Carol and Sam groaned good-naturedly and rolled their eyes. “Quiet, you two. Steve, your costume could really use some work. Leave it to Tony and me, and you’ll get a costume far better than anything you’ve ever dared to dream of.”

Steve fidgeted. He didn’t _need_ fancy things. He had the shield, and had finally managed to get its handling under control. “I’m really fine with my normal uniform, no need for something fancy?” he tried.

“Nonsense,” Jan huffed, positively offended. “You need something more than that if you join this merry gang. Tony is an expert as far as armour is concerned, and me, well, let’s say that I dabble in more than just haute couture. I’m pretty sure you will appreciate my special textiles very much.”

Steve looked from one to the next, meeting their expectant glances with no small amount of curiosity and confusion. “What about you two?” he asked Sam and Carol. He knew enough of Tony to have an idea of what he would be contributing to the team (and damn couldn’t he wait to see that suit with his own two eyes), and Jan was quite obviously the outfitter. He had no idea what Sam and Carol were doing here.

“What, costumes? Jan has already forced one on us, don’t worry,” Carol joked. “But you mean our skills, I guess. We two are mostly responsible for flying and punching things. We’re technically military, but Tony and Jan enlisted us because they felt our talents would be more appreciated here.”

“They’re not necessarily wrong,” Sam added quietly, with a wry twist of his mouth.

“Well, yes,” Carol sighed. “Anyway, you’ll be seeing what exactly we’re capable soon enough, I’m sure. We’re going to need some training before we throw ourselves into the fight.”

“I’m so excited!” Jan beamed. “So many things to do!”

“First things first,” Tony said, holding out his glass to Steve. Everyone else joined him, and they gave a toast. “Welcome to the team, Steve.”

“To the team!” Carol and Sam said.

“To the Avengers!” Jan cheered.

“Avengers?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” Jan said, shrugging and looking a little embarrassed. “I figured we’re a team now, and we need a name…”

“No,” Steve interjected. “It’s great. To the Avengers.”

Four smiling faces met his.

“To the Avengers!”


End file.
